Shelter From the Storm
by yassandra
Summary: Pythagoras closed his eyes again, breathing deeply through the assault of pain that burned within his shoulder; a bone deep agony he hadn't really known existed before.


A/N This story been written for Round 6 of Bingo on the Hurt/Comfort LJ community, to incorporate the prompt 'lacerations/knife wounds'. It's a bit of an experiment. I hope you enjoy it. Oh and Happy New Year :-)

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The cave wall was cool and rough at Pythagoras' back. With a sigh the mathematician let his head rest back against it. With closed eyes he heard the dull clatter as Jason dropped their meagre supplies into a pile, along with his sword and bow. He heard his friend approach and forced his eyes open to meet Jason's hazel ones, brimming with concern. With gentle fingers the young hero began to probe Pythagoras' left shoulder, wincing at the pained gasp Pythagoras could not hold back.

"This might sting a bit," Jason said softly, touching the hilt of the knife buried just below Pythagoras' collarbone.

"Ow." Pythagoras' softly registered complaint was unintentional. No matter how hard he tried though he simply could not supress it.

"Sorry," Jason apologised. "I _am_ being as gentle as I can."

"It is fine."

Pythagoras closed his eyes again, breathing deeply through the assault of pain that burned within his shoulder; a bone deep agony he hadn't really known existed before.

"No it is not," Jason sighed. "I just wish there was some way I could do this without hurting you… but I suppose if you will go throwing yourself in front of a knife wielding lunatic…"

"He was aiming at your back!" Pythagoras protested, his eyes snapping open. "What else was I supposed to do?"

"You could have pushed me out of the way and then ducked."

"Do you know that did not occur to me at the time."

"And you're supposed to be the clever one…" Jason murmured with a raised eyebrow. "I'm teasing… I just don't like seeing you hurt."

Pythagoras snorted.

"And you believe that I am happy when you manage to injure yourself?" He asked incredulously. It never failed to amaze him how little Jason thought about his own safety – or about how much it would affect his friends if anything happened to him.

"I guess not," Jason murmured apologetically. "I am sorry though. We wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for me."

"True… but it was my choice to come with you."

In spite of everything it was a choice that Pythagoras would make again without a second thought. With a tired sigh Jason moved from where he had been crouched in front of his friend to sit alongside him. He looked at Pythagoras out of the corner of his eyes.

"What do you think Hercules is doing right about now?" he asked.

"I suspect he will probably be passed out drunk somewhere… if his usual drinking sprees are anything to go by," Pythagoras mused, grateful for the distraction from the agony in his shoulder.

He supposed he should really be asking Jason to remove the blade embedded in his flesh (although it was currently plugging the wound somewhat and preventing the heavy bleeding he was sure would come as soon as it was removed) so that he could consider how best to treat his own injuries, but somehow he could neither begrudge his friend the momentary respite he was taking nor summon up the energy to care.

"I'm not sure whether to be angry at him because he went off drinking and didn't come with us, or grateful that he isn't here to see the mess we've managed to get into," Jason replied thoughtfully.

It was true too. Hercules had been supposed to come with them but a last minute invitation from an old drinking companion had seen the burly wrestler hurrying off for a few days hard drinking and gambling without pausing to think about whether it might cause any problems for his housemates and simply leaving them a (badly written) note. Still if he had been here to see what had happened neither one of would ever have been allowed to forget it.

"We regularly get into a mess… Every time we go off on one of those ridiculous quests," Pythagoras pointed out.

"Yeah," Jason murmured a little defensively, "but this was just supposed to be a simple hunting trip."

"I know but the principle still applies."

Pythagoras felt Jason sigh beside him and smiled ruefully, understanding what his friend was feeling just now. Some days it seemed like they had the worst luck in the whole of Atlantis and today was one of those days. Then Jason shifted to crouch in front of his friend once more.

"You know we're going to have to get that knife out don't you?" he asked.

"Yes."

"And it's going to hurt like hell…"

"Yes." Pythagoras could not quite keep the exasperation from his tone. "Look just get on with it. You are doing neither of us any favours by waiting. The longer it is in there the worse it will be."

"Well forgive me but I'm kind of worried about you bleeding out if I pull it out. Besides, we're in the middle of nowhere without any proper medical supplies. It's just asking for an infection to set in."

Pythagoras sighed. He appreciated Jason's concern but he really couldn't see that the situation would be made any better by waiting. As things were the pain was growing once more and he could feel himself beginning to falter; to slip. The longer this went on the worse off he would be.

"Infection is more likely to set in if the knife is left in," he stated firmly. "After all we do not know where it has been or how clean it is… although if the cleanliness of the owner is anything to go by it is likely to have been filthy. It will be far better to get it out and get the wound cleaned and dressed. If necessary I will stitch it."

"You can't stitch your own shoulder," Jason protested.

"Then who would you have do it? You? You forget that I saw your attempts at mending that tear in your tunic."

Pythagoras could not help the little surge of guilt that came with the faintly hurt look Jason threw in his direction. He was being objectionable and he knew it, but Gods he was feeling awful and sniping at his friend allowed him to concentrate on something other than the pain.

"That was months ago," Jason muttered defensively. "I've had a lot more practice since then. Anyway that's kind of beside the point because unless you're hiding a needle and thread somewhere then we haven't got the means to stitch it anyway."

Pythagoras paused and blinked. Jason was right, he realised with some consternation. He had the beginnings of a rudimentary medical kit in his bag (because living with Jason and to a lesser extent Hercules had taught him the prudence of forward planning in such matters); just a few bandages and a couple of pain relieving tonics. Once this was all over and they were safely back home he would have to add a needle and thread for wound stitching to his bag (always kept semi-packed these days given that they seemed to spend as much time out of the city as they did in it).

"That is a very good point. I really should have thought of it myself," he said slowly.

"Are you alright?" Jason asked, worry growing in his dark eyes. It was unlike Pythagoras to miss anything and the fact that he had was rather concerning.

"I must admit that I am beginning to feel a little light headed," the young genius admitted. "You need to remove the knife as quickly as possible so that the wound can be packed and dressed. The sooner it is seen to the better off I will be."

Jason nodded.

"Right. Okay then. We'll go on a count of three."

"Why do you always use a count of three?"

"Does it matter right now? I'd have thought three would appeal to you though… what with triangles having three sides and all."

"I am not only interested in triangles… although there is something fascinating about their angles."

"Pythagoras!" Jason sounded exasperated.

Pythagoras smiled faintly. It was usually him that sounded (and looked) exasperated at the behaviour of one of his friends.

"Sorry," he said.

"Right," Jason responded. "On three then. One… Two… Three."

He firmly grasped the knife handle and pulled sharply, wrenching the blade from his friend's shoulder and replacing it with a bunched up piece of cloth from one of the bags, pushing down hard to try to stem the sudden gout of blood that had poured forth as the knife came free, desperately trying to prevent Pythagoras from losing too much blood.

As Jason had grabbed the hilt of the knife, Pythagoras had tried to keep from screaming out loud. Every touch on the handle had set off a tidal wave of hot agony at his shoulder. Then Jason actually pulled the blade free. Pythagoras' vision whited out as wave after wave of burning pain assaulted him and unaware he gasped out a strange mewling sound, too distressed to scream loudly. Sight and sound faded as he tried to breathe through it, his mind aware only of his own harsh breathing and the agony that pulsed through his collarbone, and he was unaware of his friend gently lowering him to lie on the floor, a rolled up blanket shoved beneath his head. As the worst of the waves of pain that rocked him faded back to a burning throb, Pythagoras began to vaguely hear a voice calling him. Sluggishly he opened his eyes and blinked up into his friend's hazel ones. Jason was leaning low over him, calling him urgently, his hands busy as he tried to slow the flow of blood at Pythagoras' shoulder to a trickle. Pythagoras could almost feel the wave of relief that washed over the young hero as he realised the mathematician was fully conscious once more.

"Are you alright?" Jason asked, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice.

Pythagoras swallowed hard, still trying to control the pain from his wound.

"I've been better" he admitted.

Then he frowned, noting that Jason was not pushing down as hard as he needed to; was clearly overly worried about hurting his friend any further. That wouldn't do. The wound would require more pressure if the bleeding was to stop. Pythagoras needed Jason to stop being so gentle.

"You… need… to put more… pressure on than that… You need… to stop… the bleeding," he said.

Jason responded by doing as he asked and pushing down harder. Pythagoras winced involuntarily.

"Sorry. I'm sorry," Jason muttered, his eyes anguished.

"No," Pythagoras said. "You're doing fine. It will be better in a minute. Help me to sit up."

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea. You're looking kind of grey at the moment."

"It will pass… and it will be easier for you to bind tightly if I am sitting up."

Jason bit his lip, clearly concerned about the wisdom of what Pythagoras had asked him to do. Nevertheless he slid gentle but firm hands beneath his friend's back and carefully lifted him to sit, leaning Pythagoras back against the cave wall, hands returning to the wound at the mathematician's shoulder.

"Thank you," Pythagoras murmured with a weak attempt at a smile. He looked down at his shoulder as best he could with a disapproving frown. "You need to pack the wound more tightly than that though."

"But I'm hurting you," Jason protested.

Pythagoras' smile broadened somewhat. Despite Jason's obvious talents as a warrior he remained remarkably gentle; unwilling to cause a friend any pain or distress if he could avoid it. To Pythagoras that said a lot about his friend's character. Still it would not help them in the present situation. The mathematician became serious once more.

"Jason. Listen to me," he said. "You may be causing me some momentary discomfort but if you do not manage to pack and bind the wound tightly I will lose too much blood and then we will be in a lot more trouble than we already are."

He was rewarded by seeing Jason nod; a look of determination growing in those familiar hazel eyes.

"Push down there," Pythagoras instructed. "Argh!"

He could not help crying out as the increased pressure sharpened the burning beneath his collarbone into something less manageable. Sweat rolled down his forehead as he fought for control of himself.

"Sorry… sorry… I'm sorry." Jason was muttering apologies over and over like a mantra.

"No it is good" Pythagoras gasped out. "See the bleeding is stopping already." He paused for a long moment, concentrating on taking deep breaths. "What are you doing now?" he added, seeing Jason scramble away towards the packs and return just as quickly with a tunic that he was folding into a triangle.

"Making a sling," Jason answered almost absently, intent on the task at hand. "It'll be easier on you if your shoulder's held still."

Pythagoras huffed an annoyed breath.

"Perhaps," he snapped. "Of course it will also be obvious to any bandits who the weak one out of the two of us is. You might as well paint a target on my back."

As soon as the words left his mouth the mathematician regretted them. Jason had done nothing to deserve his sharp tongue. It was simply easier to concentrate on snapping at his friend than focus on the pain he was still in – receded though it might be. Pythagoras grimaced as guilt coursed through him.

"Sorry," he muttered, shame-faced. "I do not mean to snap. This is hurting a little that is all."

Jason looked more concerned than ever.

"Is there anything I can do?" he asked.

"Yes actually," Pythagoras responded. "I may not have full medical supplies with me but I did bring one or two things just in case. In my bag you will find a small vial wrapped in my blanket. It has a tonic in it that will take the edge off the pain."

He let himself rest against the wall as Jason scrambled off once more to find the tonic. It only seemed an instant until he was back at Pythagoras' side, raising the vial to his friend's lips with hands that shook slightly.

"Here," he said earnestly.

"Thank you," Pythagoras responded.

He allowed his head to drop back again for a moment and closed his eyes. After a moment he felt his arm being carefully manipulated into a sling and opened his eyes with a wince, waving off Jason's muttered apology with the hand of his uninjured arm and beginning to look at pushing himself back to his feet. He frowned as he felt himself held gently in place.

"Why don't you rest for a bit? We're safe enough here." Jason said softly.

"We should be getting back."

"I think we should stop here for the night. It's a long walk back to Atlantis and it's getting dark. Hercules won't be expecting us back until morning anyway. It will be safer to travel in the daylight."

"Jason…" Pythagoras began.

"Just rest. It will all be fine."

Pythagoras sighed. He _was_ tired – a symptom of blood loss he knew – and it _was_ getting dark outside. Perhaps it would not hurt to stay here and rest until morning.

"Well if you are determined to stay here…" he acquiesced.

"I am," Jason said firmly. "Trust me."

"I do," Pythagoras responded without even having to think about it.

Jason smiled and moved away from Pythagoras to set the cave up for the night in as much comfort as he could manage. In a remarkably quick time he had fetched fallen wood from outside to light a fire and keep them warm throughout the night. Then he turned back to the mathematician, noting the pallor of Pythagoras' skin (even more pronounced than usual) and the air of tiredness that seemed to cling to his friend. It was the right decision to spend the night here and set out for Atlantis in the morning after they had had a chance to rest. Not that Jason was intending to get much sleep – someone would need to be on watch after all and he had no intention of allowing Pythagoras to take a turn in his current condition. With a smile Jason came and sat down next to his friend.

"Right then," he said softly. "That's us settled in for the night." He looked appraisingly at the mathematician next to him. "Go to sleep Pythagoras," he said. "Everything will be alright."

With a soft sigh Pythagoras allowed his eyes to slip closed. As sleep claimed him he slumped sideways until he was resting on Jason's shoulder. Jason smiled affectionately and adjusted his position to allow Pythagoras to rest more comfortably against him. With his friend safe against his side he settled in to a long night on guard. Pythagoras might be injured but they were both relatively safe, warm and comfortable… and for now that was all that mattered.


End file.
